Mishka: Backfire (NSFW)
(This is a hidden vignette. Shhhhhh. It's not canon. But if Hansel and Mishka started sleeping together again, this is totally how it'd happen.) NSFW. This is how it goes. Samantha, Nixie, and Elizabeth are in bed. It's long past midnight. And Hansel Granger, who will still not have sex with him, has him shoved against the fireplace in the library. Hansel kisses him. It's--frustrating. It's always like this, always just kissing and gentle touching, never the thrown-down, raw-hurt angry sex he wants. Mishka fumbles with the laces of Hansel's pants, but Hansel grips his wrist holds it firmly against the fireplace, out of the way. Without a word. "Hansel," Mishka groans under his breath. "For fuck's sake." And then Hansel reaches down and feels Mishka through his pants. Oh. That's new. Mishka's taken so aback he almost swallows his tongue. He's been trying to fuck Hansel for weeks, but the man just wasn't having it. His breathing is so hard it hurts, but Hansel hushes him. Hansel's callused hand, rubbing gently. Not skin on skin, not yet. Because Hansel always wants to go slow and take it easy, even when Mishka is burning up inside like wildfire. "Hansel--" Mishka's heartbeat roars in his ears. He wants Hansel to fuck him, wreck him, ruin him, and he's pretty sure Hansel wants that too. But Hansel wants to torture him, apparently, more than he wants to fuck him. God, why is that hot? Why on earth is it hot that he can't... control Hansel the way he wants to, the way he can manipulate everyone else. Why is it hot that Hansel tells him no. Any moment this is going to stop. Any moment, Hansel is going to let go, and go back to brushing off his advances like it's funny. It's too much. "Hansel--" Mishka chokes out. "I'm going to-- I need-- please, please, please--" "Stop talking," Hansel mutters against his neck. "If you keep doing that, I am going to come in my pants like a horny teenager," Mishka hisses through his teeth. Hansel keeps doing that. Mishka crumples. It's too much. He can't control himself like this; it's too good, too much. It's been two years since anybody's touched him. It's been two years since anyone kissed him, much less since anyone touched him more intimately. He buries his face in Hansel's shoulder with a muffled shout. And then, before it's over, Hansel stops. Doesn't let go of Mishka-- just stops the rubbing. Mishka feels like he's burning up. "Fuck!" Mishka says. "Hansel." "Yeah?" "For fuck's sake. Can we just have sex now? God, just fuck me already." "Ask nicely," Hansel says, low and amused. "Please can you just fuck me already?" "Nah." "God, fuck you. Fuck! Fuck you." Mishka tries to think of his usual biting insults, but he's got fuckin' nothing. "I hate you. This is hell, and you are a demon, and I hate you. I haven't gotten laid in two years." "Wow," Hansel says. "Shoulda thought of that before you stabbed me in the fuckin' back, huh." "I apologized. Sincerely." "Right. Yeah, you're going to be doing a lot more of that." The thing Mishka hated most about Hansel-- and loved the most, too-- was that Hansel couldn't be bribed, couldn't be bought. Mishka shuts his eyes. Thinks about begging. Hansel seems to like that part. It doesn't work... but Hansel seems to like it. And then his eyes flickered open, and Hansel's expression seemed to change a little. Got a little softer. He kept his grip on Mishka's wrist, but kissed him again. Any second it's going to stop. Any second Hansel is going to back off again. But right now, in this moment, Mishka can feel the exact shape of his body, the heat of his skin, Hansel's leg pressed between his thighs... He wants to grind against it, but can't quite lower himself. It feels so good, though, to just stand here and breathe. Everything is quiet here. Hansel's not complicated. He did what he wanted and said what he meant. Hansel looks at him, amused, and brushes a strand of hair out of his face. "You really want this, huh." "Oh golly, apparently I haven't been clear enough for you. Yes, Hansel. Yes. I would like to have sex. Bare minimum, I would really appreciate it if you finished what you were doing with your hand." Hansel snorts. He lets go. "Sounds like a you problem," he says over his shoulder. "Handle it yourself." Category:Vignettes